* * * * *
Ritcherd fought to push away his disturbing thoughts as he dressed for the party. He did his best to convince himself that he could not undo what had happened between him and Kyrah. He could only be certain that she was cared for and make it right as quickly as possible.
When he drew his mind away from that, it inevitably went to the ugly conversation he’d had with his mother the previous day. He wanted to believe that she was just attempting to bully him, that in spite of her harsh personality, she wouldn’t really do something underhanded to keep him and Kyrah apart. Not certain what to do—or if there was even any reason for concern—he pushed it out of his mind. Once this social thing was over with, he would sit down with Kyrah and they would decide what to do—without pride or anger.
Riding in the carriage to pick her up, he felt assured that if he kept her beside him every minute, he would make certain she had a good time at the party. And then, just as he’d told his mother, he would never take her there again. Once he was married, he didn’t care if he ever went back to Buckley Manor—which made him all the more determined to have this wedding take place just as soon as possible.
All dismal thoughts fled when he entered the cottage parlor and Kyrah turned to face him. He couldn’t believe how beautiful she was. When he finally managed to propel himself forward, he took her hand to kiss it, keeping his eyes locked with hers, oblivious to Sarah, who stood close by, beaming with pride.
“This,” he said, “is the way I imagined you the first time I saw you.”
“But I was only seven,” she said, her full lips spreading with a lustrous smile that lit her eyes.
“I had a vivid imagination,” he added, lifting his brows.
“You look nice,” Kyrah smiled, admiring his appearance in the uniform. The red coat enhanced his coloring well, she thought. “You must be the most handsome captain of the king’s armies.”
“I didn’t want to wear it, actually,” he said with a humble smile. “But my mother suggested . . . since it is my welcome home party . . . and I thought, well, why not?”
“That was very thoughtful of you,” Sarah said as she smoothed the shoulders of Ritcherd’s coat. He thought of how she had always encouraged him to try to have a good relationship with his mother.
Before they left, Sarah took Ritcherd into the kitchen for a private word and went up on her toes to kiss his cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I don’t know what to say. I don’t want to take the money from you, but we need it so desperately.”
“I won’t miss it,” he said. “I consider it a privilege to see that you’re cared for, Sarah. Whether I married Kyrah or not, I would consider you family, and I would always see that your needs were met.”
Sarah smiled humbly. “There is something I want you to have,” she added and pushed a tiny object into his hand. “Stephen gave this to me the day he married me.” Ritcherd opened his hand to see a narrow gold band. “I couldn’t bear to wear it after he died, but it’s very special to me. It was one of the few things that Stephen didn’t acquire from a card game.” She smiled sadly.
“Stephen was a good man, Sarah,” he said with conviction.
“I know that,” she said firmly, then her voice lowered to a sincere whisper. “Marry Kyrah with this ring. It’s all I have to give the two of you—beyond my love and my blessings. But this ring has always been a token of perfect love. It would only be right that you have it.”
“Thank you, Sarah,” he said and put his arms around her, hugging her tightly. “This means a great deal to me.”
She smiled and touched his face. “Now you two get along to that party. You’re already fashionably late enough.”
“Yes, Mother,” he said, offering his arm, and they walked together back to the parlor. “By the way,” he added with a smile, “you’re looking much better. I assume you’re feeling as such.”
“I am, thank you,” she said as they entered the room where Kyrah sat waiting patiently.
“Shall we go?” he said and helped her into her cloak.
“Have a good time,” Sarah called.
Ritcherd winked at her and closed the door behind him.
“You look so beautiful,” he whispered close to her face while they rode in the carriage holding hands. “This is like a dream come true for me.”
“Then why do I feel so nervous?”
“Let me clarify something,” he said. “Having you in my life is a dream come true for me. As for tonight, well . . . I’m just glad for the opportunity to show you off.”
She glanced at him skeptically and turned toward the window. “I’m scared, Ritcherd,” she admitted. “I can’t help thinking about what your mother said, and—”
“Everything will be all right, Kyrah. I understand that this is difficult for you. My home has never represented anything pleasant for either of us. But it’s just one evening. I’ll stay with you every second.”
Kyrah nodded, trying to tell herself that she was just caught up in the habit of feeling ashamed and intimidated. And if she was going to be Mrs. Ritcherd Buchanan, she was going to have to get over it.
Ritcherd felt Kyrah’s fingers tense against his hand as they stepped down from the carriage and walked up the steps to the main entry. But when she entered the ballroom on his arm, there was a sudden hush in the air beyond the continuing music. All eyes turned toward them, and Kyrah froze beside him.
“Everyone is staring,” she whispered, trying to appear dignified. “They’re horrified that you would dare show your face with me.”
“Oh no, Kyrah,” he said, tilting her chin to look at him, if only to distract her from their surroundings, “they’re dazzled by your beauty. They don’t know what they were thinking all these years.” He smiled and touched her face. “It doesn’t matter what they’re thinking, Miss Payne, because I am dazzled by your beauty. I am in awe that you would love me in spite of me. And I am grateful to have you in my life.”
“I love you,” she said, realizing that she actually felt better.
“Let’s mingle and get it over with,” he whispered and moved her into the crowd.
Kyrah kept her hand on his arm while he introduced her to his guests. They all smiled politely, though she didn’t miss the skepticism and disdain in many eyes. But all she had to do was look into Ritcherd’s eyes and everything fell into perspective. Even the way his mother blatantly ignored her didn’t seem quite so ominous with his hand in hers.
She noticed several other young ladies present. And by the way some of them were glaring at her, she felt certain Jeanette Buchanan had made a point of inviting them for Ritcherd’s benefit. But she felt secure in the way Ritcherd skillfully steered away from them, and he hardly seemed to notice their presence.
She was hesitant at first to go onto the dance floor, but Ritcherd teased her about the dance lessons in the church, and it took little effort before she was dancing as gracefully as any lady present. And she had to admit she was enjoying herself.
Ritcherd realized as he watched her that this was her very first social experience. And he couldn’t help thinking of what Kyrah had been cheated out of because of the unfair circumstances. He completely monopolized her on the dance floor and refused to let her dance with anyone else, until George Morley showed up. In fact, she showed her first genuine smile when George approached them, took her hand, and kissed it gallantly.
“It’s no wonder you waited for her to grow up, Ritch,” he said with an impish smile. “You must let me dance with her.”
“I hear you’ve been gone a lot the last few years,” Ritcherd said with a smile, avoiding the subject. “So, what brings you back now?”
“I heard that Kyrah Payne would be at this party, so I hurried back to get a dance.”
Kyrah smiled and turned to Ritcherd, “It’s all right.”
“One dance,” Ritcherd said, feigning a threat in his voice. “And I want her delivered right back into my arms. Just because I’ve
known you all my life,” he teased, “doesn’t mean I trust you.”
Ritcherd leaned against the wall and didn’t take his eyes off them for a second. He smiled to himself when he saw her laugh, and he knew George was teasing her. When the set ended, George led her directly to Ritcherd, placing her hand elaborately into his. “Not to worry,” he grinned, “I wouldn’t dare take a lady away from the great Captain Buchanan.”
“The day you settle for one woman, I’ll buy you the most expensive bottle of brandy I can get my hands on.”
“Don’t bother making the investment just yet,” he returned impishly, and Ritcherd laughed. As Kyrah’s attention turned briefly elsewhere, George leaned closer to Ritcherd and whispered, “I need to talk with you about something.”
His seriousness caught Ritcherd’s attention. “So talk.”
“I believe it warrants a little more time and privacy than what you’re offering here, my friend. I’ve been trying to catch you home for days. It is important. Can you get away?”
“No.” He smiled toward Kyrah. “Not now.”
“When?” he asked pointedly, and Ritcherd couldn’t help being curious. This wasn’t like George.
“After I take Kyrah home,” he said.
“Sounds good.” George slapped Ritcherd lightly on the shoulder and disappeared into the crowd.
The dinner hour was announced, and Kyrah sat by Ritcherd’s side at the table. Jeanette continued to ignore Kyrah, even when she proposed a toast to her son, who had at last returned from serving his call.
As Ritcherd observed Kyrah through the evening, he found it difficult to imagine why his mother couldn’t look at her and see how perfectly she conducted herself as a lady. He felt so thoroughly proud of her, and he knew if his mother would take the shades from her eyes and look at Kyrah without prejudice, she couldn’t help but see how wonderful a woman she really was. But there was no good in hoping for such a thing. His mother would never lower her bitter wall. And he wondered why the thought actually caused him pain. But Kyrah made up for it. She made up for every bit of pain his mother had ever caused him. He felt so happy having her near him like this that he thought he would burst.
Kyrah found it difficult to keep her eyes off Ritcherd. Her discomfort at being here was eased by his nearness, and she marveled at the reality of all that surrounded her. It was good to have him back and be with him—and he looked so very handsome tonight. How could she not be proud to be the woman who had claimed Captain Buchanan’s heart?
The party wasn’t making her as nervous as she had expected. But the icy glares from Ritcherd’s mother unnerved her. Jeanette made no effort to hide that she’d noticed the elaborate diamonds Kyrah was wearing. She gazed at them often with contempt in her eyes. Ritcherd did well at ignoring his mother’s insinuating silence, but Kyrah found it difficult. She was grateful to have dessert served, knowing that she could soon be away from Jeanette’s gaze.
“Here goes,” Ritcherd whispered to Kyrah and squeezed her hand. He stood and made it clear he had something to say. Her heart began to pound. A quick glance told her that his mother was visibly tense. Would she be so low as to make a public scene?
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said. “I want to thank you all for coming tonight. But before we move back to the ballroom, I have a formal announcement to make.” He glanced affectionately toward Kyrah. “Well,” he chuckled slightly, “how else is there to say it? Kyrah Payne is going to honor me by becoming my wife.”
Kyrah was amazed to realize that many of the people present seemed genuinely pleased. But it was easy to lose perspective given the obvious disdain of others. A quick glance around the room made the differentiation very clear. Amidst cheers and applause, Ritcherd took her arm and urged her to stand next to him. A toast was offered to their happiness before they sat back down and finished the meal, enjoying an array of congratulations and light-hearted comments that made it easier to avoid looking at Ritcherd’s mother. And when she did she wished she hadn’t. All enjoyment crashed down around her. Jeanette’s expression wasn’t angry or horrified. She looked subtly smug, almost complacent.
“There,” Ritcherd whispered when the people nearby stood to leave the table, “it’s done. Now let’s get out of here.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” she said, wishing her voice hadn’t betrayed her sudden change of mood.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Your mother,” she said discreetly, and Ritcherd glanced her way.
He needed no further explanation. Something in his mother’s eyes suddenly made him wish he’d never come tonight. “You were right, Kyrah,” he admitted. “We should have been halfway to Scotland by now.”
“It’s not too late. We could leave tonight.”
Ritcherd looked at her long and hard. “I just need to pack a few things. It will only take five minutes. Then I’ll take you home to pack. We can be gone before midnight. Do you think your mother will be all right with that?”
“Yes. Hurry up. I have to get out of here.”
Moving out of the dining room, Kyrah went around a corner with Ritcherd right behind her. She gasped as she nearly bumped into Peter Westman.
“Kyrah,” he said with a sneer and she felt Ritcherd go tense beside her, “you look lovely. And you, Captain Buchanan. How good to see you.”
Ritcherd nodded curtly.
“Looks like I’ve missed all the fun,” he said, looking over Ritcherd’s shoulder into the empty dining room.
“You have indeed,” Ritcherd said. “The announcement’s official now.”
“Really?” Peter laughed. “I’ll believe this marriage when I see it.”
“You won’t see it,” Kyrah said. “You won’t be invited.”
Peter seemed amused, and Ritcherd nodded again. “If you’ll excuse us, Mr. Westman. I believe you could find company more suitable to your taste.”
“Indeed,” Peter smiled, lifting his glass to them as they walked past. Kyrah sensed a smugness about him that only added to her discomfort. She could never put it to words, but she knew she had to get out of here. Something wasn’t right.
Kyrah lost her bearings as she followed Ritcherd to his rooms. Her visits there had always been from a different part of the house. She was amazed at how quickly he packed some clothes and a few essentials. When he was finished he peered into the hallway to make certain it was clear. Taking Kyrah by the hand, he led her toward the stairs. They’d not reached them, however, before they were approached by Ritcherd’s mother and an official-looking man, obviously not a guest. The uneasiness she had felt all evening blew into full-fledged fear when she saw that Jeanette was holding her cloak.
“Does this belong to Miss Payne?” Jeanette asked Ritcherd, totally ignoring Kyrah except for a cool glance toward her necklace.
“Yes, it does,” Ritcherd said, taking it from her abruptly. “Thank you. I was just going to take her away from this wretched place.”
“Not just yet,” the man said.
“Who is he?” Ritcherd asked, hating the way he was wishing they’d never come here tonight.
“This is Constable Killeen,” his mother said. “Now Ritcherd, I want to keep this as quiet as possible.”
“What are you talking about?"
“I’m certain Miss Payne knows what I’m talking about.”
A quick glance told Ritcherd that Kyrah was as ignorant as he. “Explain yourself, Mother.”
“These!” she said, opening her hand to reveal several small pieces of expensive jewelry. “I’m certain Miss Payne has seen these before.” Jeanette glared at her, and Kyrah couldn’t begin to hide her horror as the implication began to set in.
“Get to the point!” Ritcherd demanded.
“These are mine!” she shouted, then lowered her voice. “The maid discovered they were missing before dinner. And when the house was searched, they were found in the pocket of Miss Payne’s cloak.”
Ritcherd actually laughed. Was that the best she could come
up with? Was this her attempt to keep them apart? “That’s ridiculous,” he said. “If they were in Kyrah’s pocket, then they were planted there, and you know it.”
“I know no such thing.” His mother was adamant.
“She has not been out of my sight for a minute since we arrived.”
“Of course you’d stick up for her.” Jeanette’s voice was caustic. “She’s had the wool pulled over your eyes for years. You can’t trust poor people when they get around all of this wealth.”
Ritcherd felt Kyrah grab his arm tightly with both hands. The constable, who had observed this family quibble with no expression, suddenly said, “You’ll need to come with me, Miss Payne.” Kyrah moved directly behind Ritcherd and her grip tightened.
“She’ll do no such thing,” Ritcherd said angrily, then turned to his mother. “How much did you pay him to arrest an innocent woman?”
“I’m just doing my job, Captain Buchanan,” he stated, as if this bored him terribly.
“Well, she’s innocent. She was set up. I was with her every minute. You’ve got your jewels back. Let’s drop it.”
“I will do no such thing,” Jeanette said hoarsely. “I’ll not tolerate thieves in my home.”
“Well, we’re leaving.” Ritcherd moved quickly past them, pulling Kyrah by the hand. But the constable moved close behind them and reached out to take Kyrah’s other arm.
“You are under arrest, Miss Payne,” he said. “Running will only get you into more trouble.”
Kyrah was so stunned, so thoroughly frightened, that she couldn’t even respond. Ritcherd put himself between her and the constable, saying firmly, “Arrest me. I’ll take full responsibility.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Ritcherd!” his mother said with disgust.
“This entire thing is ridiculous,” Ritcherd retorted. “Just drop the charges and let us—”
“Captain Buchanan,” the constable interrupted, his irritation evident, “I am under obligation of the law to take Miss Payne into custody.” He almost seemed compassionate as he added, “She simply needs to come down to the station for the night. We’ll get all of this straightened out tomorrow.”
Ritcherd glared long and hard at his mother, then he eased Kyrah beside him, keeping his arm protectively around her. “Well, she can’t go dressed like this,” he said. “Let me take her home to change and pack a few things.”
Kyrah’s heart pounded even faster. What was he saying? How could he possibly turn her over to this man under such circumstances?
The constable exchanged a studied glance with Jeanette, as if they had some private form of communication. Then he nodded. “That would be fine. But if you don’t mind, Captain, I’ll be following you there.”
“Fine,” he said and hurried down the hall with Kyrah’s arm in his hand.
“What are you thinking?” she whispered in astonishment when they were out of the constable’s earshot.
“I’m thinking that once you change and pack a few things, we’re heading out through the woods. We’ll get out of the country by any means possible and just let all of this die down.”
Kyrah took a deep breath of relief. She’d much rather spend the rest of her life as a fugitive than allow herself to be left alone in a jail cell, knowing that Jeanette Buchanan was holding some sick power over her.
Little was said as the carriage drove them to the cottage. They were both well aware of the constable waiting in the drive as they went inside. “Don’t be trying anything funny, Captain,” he called after them. Ritcherd just waved and closed the door. While Kyrah went to change her clothes, Ritcherd sat down to explain to Sarah what had happened.
Kyrah almost tore off the beautiful gown and threw it scornfully to the bed. She felt angry and confused. And most of all, scared. But she concentrated on getting away with Ritcherd. She got dressed and threw two changes of clothes, a nightgown, and a few essentials into a bag. She put the necklace and earrings into the box that housed them, then wrapped it carefully in some of her clothes. Impulsively she tossed in her book on birds, if only because it represented some measure of comfort. Returning to the parlor, she wondered what Ritcherd’s plan was exactly. She didn’t see sneaking out the back way and losing the constable to be terribly difficult. But she wondered how long they would be on the run. She wondered what her mother might do. Would they send for her? Come back for her? Would she go with them now?
All her plans came crashing around her when she entered the room to hear Sarah saying, “You can’t get away with it and you know it.”
“What choice do we have?” Ritcherd retorted, oblivious to Kyrah standing in the doorway.
“You can stay here and face up to the consequences, whatever they may be. I will not allow my daughter to become some kind of fugitive when she hasn’t done anything wrong. She’s innocent. They’ll prove she’s innocent, and it will be over.”
“That woman will never allow me to be innocent,” Kyrah insisted, startling them both. “It’s her word against mine, and it’s not difficult to see that my word will mean nothing.”
“You’re talking like a child,” Sarah said. “Now, we will work this out like adults. You can’t run away from this, Kyrah. We know you’re innocent. We’ll find a way to prove it.”
Kyrah quickly searched her feelings and had to admit, “I don’t believe that’s possible. We have to leave, Mother. We have to.” She looked to Ritcherd for support and was relieved when he took over.
“Sarah, listen to me. I’ll take good care of Kyrah. We’ll get settled somewhere and send for you. Kyrah’s right. My mother is too powerful. She’s—”
Kyrah gasped when a loud knock sounded at the door. “It’s now or never,” she said to Ritcherd.
He reached for her hand and headed toward the hall, but Sarah rushed to the front door, saying quietly, “I can’t let you do it.”
“Mother, no,” Kyrah pleaded, but the door came open and Constable Killeen was standing in its frame, looking impatient.
“You’ll take good care of her, now won’t you,” Sarah said to the constable.
“Of course,” he replied. But Kyrah felt a chill run down her spine. She met Ritcherd’s eyes and saw her own fears mirrored there. She wanted to be angry with him, but knew this wasn’t his fault. “We should be able to get this sorted out tomorrow,” the constable added. “One night ought to be enough to appease Mrs. Buchanan. Let’s get it over with.”
When it became evident that their options were gone, Ritcherd said to the constable, “Just give us a minute, please.”
He motioned with his hand as if to grant it, then leaned against the doorframe. Ritcherd eased Kyrah out of earshot, but where they could still be seen. It was evident from the constable’s expression that he wouldn’t let them out of his sight. The pistol he carried limited their options considerably.
“I’m so afraid,” she admitted.
“I know,” he said. “So am I, but . . . maybe it’s not as bad as it seems.” He took her face into his hands and looked into her eyes. “Our love is strong enough to make it through this, Kyrah. Whatever happens, we’ll get through it together. Are you hearing me?”
She nodded and bit her lip, fighting off the desperation rising in her.
“I’ll find a way to get my mother to drop the charges,” he said. “I’ll threaten to kick her out of the house if I have to. One way or another, we’ll get it taken care of. I promise.” Feeling an unexplainable urgency to make his point very clear, he deepened his gaze, as well as his voice. “I would walk through hell in bare feet for you, Kyrah. I will see us through this. No matter how long it takes, don’t you forget that. Do you hear me?”
Again Kyrah nodded, unable to speak.
“I’ll be there first thing in the morning,” he promised. “And I’ll have my solicitor right on it.” He pulled her into his arms, holding her as if he might never have the chance again. “I’m so sorry for all of this, Kyrah. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”
He co
uld feel her trembling in his arms and had to suppress the urge to knock the constable out cold and drag Kyrah away. He told himself there was no reason to feel like his heart was breaking. He would see her again in the morning.
Ritcherd embraced her once more, then it became evident that the constable had used up his patience. Kyrah embraced her mother, trying not to feel angry with her for preventing them from leaving when they’d had the chance. Walking out the door with the constable, she felt as if she was being led to the gallows. She glanced back over her shoulder just once, wishing she could believe this would be taken care of as easily as Ritcherd had tried to convince her. Somehow, she knew this was just the beginning of a nightmare. She couldn’t even fathom what Jeanette Buchanan might be capable of. That in itself frightened her most of all.
When she arrived at the station, very little seemed to happen. Constable Killeen discussed something with another man out of her hearing range, then she was taken to a room that more resembled a bedroom than a cell. Once she was left alone, she curled up on the bed and tried in vain to relax. In her heart she knew this was not what it appeared to be. She only prayed that Ritcherd’s love for her was as strong and true as he claimed it to be.
“Please, Ritcherd,” she murmured into the dark silence. And then she cried.
The Captain of Her Heart Page 19
